Title: Princess and the Pauper

Author: Aradia

Disclaimer: I don't own anything pertaining to The OC

Rating: PG-13

Summary: It can all go away as easy as it is to unscrew a cap. Marissa Fic

Notes: Thanks to Kashmir for beta reading this. I love you!!! (but not in a sexy way b/c I only think about boys and Michelle Rodriguez like that.)

Whiskey or Vodka , light or dark, cheap and dirty or smooth high class. Bottles filled with liquid release. It can all go away as easy as it is to unscrew a cap.

He drove away in an old dusty white Ford. Guilt filled her eyes when she looked at me but her foot never left the gas. They never stopped. He didn't say goodbye.

Smooth, and quick; tilt back the bottle and fire rolls down my throat. Once, twice, soon I lose count. My vision blurs around the edges and softens the view.

My new home is gorgeous. It's a palace, big enough, even, for Julie CooperNichol. The room I was given is purple. It's beautiful and expensive.

I hate it.

Stumble, fall. The carpet's thick. My knees are red. I don't feel a thing. It's hard to think. I can't move. I close my eyes and the world goes away. I spin inside my head. It makes me dizzy. The bottle's empty.

My mother used to call me her princess. She was right. I am Rapunzel inside a 40 million dollar prison but there are no bars on my windows and no chains on the doors. Caleb Nichol doesn't need a lock to hold me.

Everything went dark for a while but I can see again. The sun is setting. Shadows float around my room. The purple fades away to black. I can't sit up yet. My head is still spinning, but the hazy edges have sharpened. Another bottle and it will all blur together again.

We're the princess and the pauper. She's poor, I'm rich. I'm educated, she's not. I have privilege, social standing, clean streets and fast cars. She has a minimum wage job, public transportation and a baby on the way. Her life's a statistic and mine's a wet dream but when she cries at night he's there to hold her. He kisses her tears away and tells her everything is going to be okay. I lie on the floor, inches away from my own vomit and try to breathe through my mouth.

Fin